Judas
by HugAZombie
Summary: L is by no means an idiot.' One Shot.


_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Death Note, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. The writen dialogue is taken from the fansubbed episode, so thank you to whoever done that as well (:___

_**Notes: **__Not slash. For once. My take on eipsode 25 [? I think] named 'Silence.'' Not my best. But then this is my second FF overall. I am still getting used to it lol. Sorry if they are OOC. _

_**Media:**__ Anime. _

_**Spoilers:**__ episode 25 I guess. It's only the first half though, with heavy hints to what is going to happen. _

_**Characters:**__ Raito Yagami and L._

* * *

L is by no means an idiot. Call him what you will: a coward, a mercenary or even akin to Kira in his own right, but never call him an idiot, because nothing could be further from the truth. A brilliant brain observes the world through analytic eyes. He misses nothing. He knows everything. You cannot hide your sins from him when he sets his black and haloed eyes on you. Your discrepancies and your half-truths are laid bare before you can even begin build a defence against him. He consumes your facades as delicately and as focused as he eats his beloved sweets. He is everything that is justice. It's all he can be. All he knows. There is no grey area for him, no middle ground where you can wriggle through loopholes and gaps. There is only the blinding white and the molten black. You are or you aren't. You did or you didn't. You were or you weren't. There are no maybes, no allowances for even a fraction of doubt.

No, L is far from idiotic. He knew exactly what he was doing when he walked across the roof of headquarters in the rain. He knew the reason behind his actions. No one can hide from him, least of all himself. Not that he ever tried. L never conformed. What he showed you was what he was: a socially awkward, methodical genius who had an addiction to sweet foods. He saw little point in hiding who you are to those whom interaction was essential. He saw little point in hiding things, which had conceded his truthfulness towards the young Raito. When playing chess, you can make no hidden moves, for all are witnessed by the opponent. But by making bold movements, by sacrificing a little – which in this case was information – you could ease into a more comfortable position with your other surrounding pawns. After all, what he and Raito were doing was playing a real-life version of Chess. Misa, Yagami, Matsuda; they were all pawns. Their protected queens were no less than a metaphor for their lives. Checkmate was certain death.

L knew this. He always had. He was playing this on a borrowed board, and his debt was soon to be recalled. As much as he would've liked he knew he wouldn't be able to see this through until the end. His hands were tied. Even as he took two steps forward, he always had to take another back. His most recent advance would set him back fatally. But he had come to terms with that. He had already known that the chances of his seeing this case through alive was low, almost 5%, if that. That was that. All he was doing was prolonging an inevitable end. And it drew ever nearer.

The rain was icy yet it didn't seem to bother L as he stood, shivering only because it was his body's natural defence. The clouds above had ripped their seams, and their wounds bled in plentiful. Sheets of cold water tumbled from the sky, the thick, fat globules meeting their demise on rooftops and pavements, on cars and umbrellas, on L's upturned face. He had heard the feet approach beneath the relentless wailing of the wind and rain. He knew who had followed him to suffer the anguish of the skies and he knew why, yet he still turned his head slightly to observe Raito from where he stood, still sheltered.

"What are you doing in a place like this, Ryuzaki?" he had asked. L had turned more fully, considering gaze fixed on Raito before he cupped his ear – motioning that he hadn't heard the inquiry. Raito all but rolled his eyes, cupping his mouth in a similar gesture and repeating the question in a louder voice he hoped would carry. But to no avail, he simply got the same returning action. He sighed; he was unsure as to whether L was playing a game or was serious. Raito knew L wasn't stupid. He knew all too well. Covering his face with an arm, he moved towards the man.

"What are you doing Ryuzaki?" The dark haired man simply shrugged, turning his gaze back to the washed out horizon, to the grey dominated skies.

"Nothing in particular," he answered finally. "It's just the bells..."

"Bells?" A tone of disbelieving.

"Yes. The bells are really loud today."

Raito followed L's gaze, pensive and quiet. But he heard nothing but the pounding rain of the heavens above and rumbling traffic of the world below. "I don't hear anything." Those amber eyes studied the frail, hunched frame of the world-class detective who watched him just as closely.

"Really?" Those haunting sleepless eyes returned to the world around them. "The conditions are favourable today so you can't help but hear them. It's a church, maybe a wedding or...?"

L was interrupted before he could continue his musings on the bells that may or may not exist. "What are you talking about Ryuzaki? Don't be saying such useless things."

And L apologised. It's a strange word on the detective lips, but Raito said nothing in return. Simply listened to the words that followed. Simply replying to the comments made.

"I distant my relationships with everyone. I don't trust them."

"That's true Ryuzaki. You try not to get involved in relationships. If it's something that shouldn't be, you shouldn't get involved in the first place. I know that the best." For yet another moment those two equally dark and conflicting sets of eyes met once again. It's a battle of wits, L mused as he studied those hard eyes of a disarmingly warm colour. And we're fairly equally matched.

"Yes, that's how it is, Raito-kun," L conceded. Who was he to disagree after all, when what he had said was true. His eyes never did flee from that conventionally handsome face before him. "But you're the same as me."

Those honeyed eyes flashed with something dark. "What do you mean?" That tone was controlled. L took this reaction as a pinch of salt.

"Since you were born," L said, eyes wide and unblinking. A lesser man would've stepped back, found the penetrating gaze intimidating. But Raito wasn't a lesser man, and he preformed no such actions. L would've been disappointed if he had. "Have you ever told the truth even once?"

"What are you saying, Ryuzaki? It's true I tell lies occasionally; however there aren't any humans who have never told a lie. People can't be perfect, everyone lies. Even so I don't tell lies that will hurt those I love. That's my answer."

L continued his observation, head tilted just so. He listened, oh yes he listened. He heard the hypocrisy in the words. _'People can't be perfect.'_ How crude a saying for a boy who believed himself to be God, and therefore perfect. You are lying to me right now, he thought shrewdly, but then you have no love for me, do you? We are enemies' intent to destroy each other. So what is a lie between two foes, really? Just good form.

"I guess that's why you're popular." A moment of silence. To Raito it appeared as though L was enjoying the 'bells' for one last time before those dark eyes once again fell to his face. "Let's head back. We're soaking wet."

-

He sat on the steps. His feet were free of his trainers and his hand worked a towel through his hair. L stood and observed his foe for a moment, his own white towel draped over his head. He moved forward in the awkward manner that characterized him.

"What a terrible rain storm." It was an offhand comment. It held no hidden meanings or agendas. L saw little point in them for now. Now time was short. And his hours on Earth where limited. He knew in a round-a-bout way just what was too happen when Misa was brought in. No, he didn't know the intricacies but he knew the dynamics. And that, he thought, was enough.

"It's your fault, you were the one standing out in the rain," Raito retorted, annoyance only lacing his words. His eyes flicked up to meet L's for but a scant second before he returned his full attention to drying his hair.

"It's true," L amended. "Sorry." Once again that word had arisen and tumbled from his pale lips. Had Raito been a little less careful, he might've frowned and questioned. But he did not. He saw no point. So the silence stretched on. L stared down at his enemy, eyes skimming him, evaluating, before he moved and came to kneel in front of L. He took one bare foot into head, slipping the towel from his own head to curl neatly around Raito's foot.

The brunette started, brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you doing Ryuzaki?" The hint of suspicion was well concealed, L thought. He would've smiled, if he hadn't felt like he had forgotten how.

"I thought I'd give you a hand. I'll help wipe you dry."

"No thanks, you don't need to do that." There was something in his voice. A hard edge. It garnered L's attention but he dwelled on it for little more than a minute. He had more important things to be doing. He looked up at Raito, gazing at him from underneath a dripping fringe.

"I'm going to give you a massage as well. It's the least I can do and I'm also pretty good at it." There was rhyme and reason for the insistence of the foot rub. It wasn't platonic, and most certainly not romantic. It was symbolism, pure and simple. L wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what his actions meant, and he had more than enough faith that Raito would also grasp the concept. After all, Raito matched even him in intelligence. If he didn't grasp the idea, L would've been sorely disappointed.

If you are still confused, I'll grant you an explanation. In the bible it is told that Jesus, on the night of his last supper, washed the feet of all his disciples, including those of Judas. He knew he was to die. He knew that Judas had betrayed him, yet he still paid the traitor the same respect as his friends.

L knew he was to die. L knew that Raito would, one way or another, kill him, 'betray' him and their pretence of friendship. And he was letting Raito know with all the subtlety he could muster. He was telling Raito that this climax to their relationship as expected. Of course, Raito could've interpreted this all not as acceptance for the death that awaits him, but as L's sign of defeat. But, L hoped not, because this was by far a defeat. His queen might be taken on this night, but L already had two Knights awaiting their cue to take his place. This was no defeat oh no, his death will be but a simple anomaly in the battle against Kira. But never defeat.

A sigh. "Do what you want."

There was a prolonged silence, broken only by the soft falls of a few rogue droplets from L's fringe. The breathing of the two men was out of sync, a low whooshing of breath and the quiet backdrop drum of heartbeats.

"I'm sad." The phrase had caught Raito by surprise, his head snapped up to met the eyes of his rival, but those eyes were still tuned down, almost submissively – which didn't sit right with Raito. L was anything but submissive.

"What?"

Then those eyes turned to him, glowing obsidian with meaning and cool acceptance. Raito stared back, glanced around him, before once again settling on that gaze.

"You'll understand soon," L said, gently putting his foot back on the marble as his mobile phone screamed out a tune. He plucked it out of his pocket, dangling it between two fingers as he answered. His eyes studied Raito in long side glances. His death was nearing; the scythe of the reaper was so close he could almost taste it. But L said nothing. He only hoped Raito had gotten the message, had gotten the meaning behind the semblance of friendship, the show of favour he had just preformed.

Then, he put down the phone and motioned for Raito to follow him. Death swung its scythe and it hit right on target.

No, L wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what was going on.


End file.
